


I just came here for the drugs(so stop your faking)

by bumbleb_tch



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is just so so SO high, Bad puns and terrible innuendos, But he's seeing things from a new perspective, F/M, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I know i'm chaotic but bare with me i'm doing my best, Identity Reveal, Marinette is So Stressed, Nyquil Shenanigans, Please do not ask me for a sequel I have too many already, So I wrote this instead of working on any of my WIPs because I hate myself, The title makes it seem way more serious than it is, Theoretically takes place after Miracle Queen, There's no timeline relevant details though, but it got kinda serious fluffy at the end so, it is crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24448675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumbleb_tch/pseuds/bumbleb_tch
Summary: “Hey, can you hold this?” Adrien asked, passing her his bag before she could respond. While she held it, blinking vacantly, he dug inside until he unearthed a massive bottle of Nyquil. He set the bottle on the desk and reclaimed his bag, tucking it away before fiddling with the cap of the bottle.Seconds passed as he struggled, seemingly unperturbed by his lack of success. All the while, Marinette was beginning to twitch with the effort to not do it for him. Just as she was about to snatch it from him, the cap came off and he hummed victoriously.Then Adrien lifted the bottle to his lips and tipped it back, chugging long enough to make her concerned.“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to take it,” Marinette breathed, not sure what else to say when he’d just taken a quarter of a bottle of Nyquil like he was hoping he wouldn’t wake up ever again.---Adrien has the sniffles and makes the incorrect assumption that tripling his dose of Nyquil will triple the effects. It doesn't. Oh, and he and Marinette are supposed to be doing a project together.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 41
Kudos: 379





	I just came here for the drugs(so stop your faking)

**Author's Note:**

> My beta fueled this idea and now I have 5k of what was supposed to be really lighthearted drug induced crack that took grew the theory of a plot and got kinda serious and fluffy. So if y'all like it, then thank Papillon10 for continuously feeding me fresh plot ideas and encouraging my manic chaos. 
> 
> (In seriousness, she's the best and really keeps me from posting fics that are just one single run-on sentence.)
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Walking into her last class of the day, Marinette was bursting at the seams with anxiety. For one specific reason. The entire class had been paired off earlier in the week for projects, with this class period scheduled to begin working on them. Much to her delight, she had been paired with Adrien.

Now that the reality of the situation was setting in, she was quickly realizing it had been naive to be so excited when such prolonged exposure to her crush would no doubt provide plenty of opportunities for her to embarrass herself. The boy in question was slumped over the desk with his head cushioned by his arms and didn’t seem to notice as she slid onto the bench next to him. 

“Hi Adrien,” she didn’t look at him, instead busying herself with unloading her bag. Marinette had long since learned that making eye contact with him would do her no favours. 

He startled, popping his head up to blink at her in a daze. His eyes, usually bright gems that made her knees weak, were dull and glazed over as he spoke.  “Oh, hi Marinette.”  Adrien’s voice was as lifeless as his eyes and though he smiled at her, it was one of his fake model smiles- perfectly polished and painfully false. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked, leaning as close as she dared to peer into his eyes, which seemed to struggle to focus on her. “You seem...off.”

Adrien rolled his eyes sarcastically, a gesture that was out of character enough to shock her even before he responded. “You can just say that I look like shit, we both already know it.”

“What?” she yelped before realizing they were still in the classroom and supposed to be quietly working on their project. A quick glance confirmed no one was watching them, all her classmates used to her occasional outbursts. 

“Hey, can you hold this?” Adrien asked, passing her his bag before she could respond. While she held it, blinking vacantly, he dug inside until he unearthed a massive bottle of Nyquil. He set the bottle on the desk and reclaimed his bag, tucking it away before fiddling with the cap of the bottle.

Seconds passed as he struggled, seemingly unperturbed by his lack of success. All the while, Marinette was beginning to twitch with the effort to not do it for him. Just as she was about to snatch it from him, the cap came off and he hummed victoriously.

Then Adrien lifted the bottle to his lips and tipped it back, chugging long enough to make her concerned.

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to take it,” Marinette breathed, not sure what else to say when he’d just taken a quarter of a bottle of Nyquil like he was hoping he wouldn’t wake up ever again.

“Well I’m not dead,” he’d replied immediately, in a voice that was toneless and measured, almost robotic. 

It didn’t soothe her at all, but not knowing what to say, they lapsed into a silence that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but certainly not comfortable either. After an indeterminate time that mostly consisted of him staring into space like he could see another dimension and her staring at him as her concern mounted steadily, Adrien shivered visibly and shook his head.

He turned his head towards her and a broad smile creased his face with exuberant glee. “Hey Marinette! When did you get here?”

She blinked at him. “When did I-What?” His expression was open and genuine, giving away no sign that he was messing with her. “I’ve been here, Adrien…”

“Really?” Adrien gasped, loud enough to make her cringe as eyes turned their way. 

“Yes, really,” she said, hushing him softly, “We’re working on a project, remember?”

He nodded compliantly, “Oh right.” Pausing for a moment, he scanned the supplies she’d spread across the desk before eventually tracing his gaze up to meet hers. “Hey Marinette, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

A shiver traced down her spine, nausea twisting in her stomach as she choked on air. “What?!”

Adrien’s limbs wobbled and he melted back into his prior slumped position, eyes twinkling up at her from beneath shaggy bangs that were unusually ruffled. “I’m just wondering cause you’re like a perfect passion fruit macaron and you deserve someone who will appreciate that.”

She coughed, eyes bulging at him as she tried to keep herself under control. “I’m a wha-”

“You’re a snack, Marinette!” Adrien cut her off, “And don’t forget it. Oh! Maybe I could be your wingman!” He leaned into her space suddenly, cupping her jaw in his hands and staring into her eyes like he was searching for some hidden mystery of life. 

Heat blazed to life in her cheeks as she fought not to jerk away and pass out, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly but unable to force any words out. Her heart pounded in such a violent panic that she worried it might burst from her ribcage, and part of her wished it would, if only to grant her reprieve from her suffering.

Adrien was still rambling at top speed, “I can find you your purrfect match, no games of cat and mouse while I’m around. We’ll sniff out the ideal man before you meow it.”

If she’d been less of a coward, she might have voiced her thoughts on the matter, and blurted a damning accusation that if he was so invested in her love life, why didn’t he just date her himself. But that was exactly the kind of clever barb she would never be able to actually launch at him, of all people

In any case, the series of cat puns spilling directly into her eardrums at an accelerated rate triggered an instant shutdown of her already overloaded brain. All emotion evaporated from her body until she was staring blank faced at him, summoning the will to be gentle and coaxing since he was only acting this way thanks to mainlining Nyquil. “Adrien. I appreciate the offer, but I must regretfully decline.” 

For the briefest moment Marinette was thankful that terrible jokes had such a visceral effect on her, if it meant she could speak whole coherent sentences to Adrien while he was spitting them like his life depended on it. But then he shoved his lower lip out in a truly heart wrenching pout and his wide, pleading eyes shimmered with unshed tears, so Marinette twisted in her seat to try and summon some backup.

“Alya!” she muttered, glaring fiercely in her direction with the hope that she might feel her gaze. “C’mon, Alya, help me out.”

Alya looked up and met her eyes, tilting her head questioningly, but headed their way after Marinette jerked her head in a ‘come help me’ signal. She sidled up to the desk and smirked, “You two seem pretty cozy over here.”

Marinette suppressed a groan and sent her friend a pointed look, hissing menacingly under her breath so Adrien wouldn’t hear, “Alya! He chugged a bunch of Nyquil and now he’s acting really weird, I need your help!” 

Adrien had hardly seemed to notice Alya’s presence, prattling on about Marinette’s sense of style. Alya scanned him briefly and then squinted at her, “And now he’s talking about  _ you _ , so what’s the problem?”

“He is so high right now that the air pressure and lack of oxygen are causing all his brain cells to seep out his ears!” Marinette groaned, her hands tugging at her hair in anxiety. “He wants to be my  _ wingman. _ My  _ wingman _ , Alya!” 

Alya froze, and turned her head to the side to cough, repeatedly. “Well he, uh-” she snorted and cleared her throat, “What do you want me to do, girl?”

Adrien chose that moment to lean back into Marinette’s space and nuzzle his cheek against her shoulder, immediately sending her into another tailspin of anxiety. Completely oblivious to her turmoil, he just kept talking. “So anyway, tell me what you’re into, Marinette. I know Chat Noir calls you his Princess but you don’t really strike me as that kind of gal.”

Marinette choked, gasping for air and feeling as though her entire body had to be scarlet under the oppressive heat of embarrassment. “Alya, did you  _ hear  _ what he just said?”

“What?” Adrien rocketed upright, pouting once again, “I’m just saying I think that you’re not a shallow, prissy princess, there’s more to you than that.” The look he fixed on them both was simpering with hurt feelings like a kicked puppy’s.

Marinette found she was deeply suspicious of it.

Alya fell for it immediately. “See Marinette? Adrien is just being nice and making conversation, just humor him til the Nyquil wears off and everything will be fine.” 

Adrien turned his head to beam at Marinette innocently, his expression transforming into a wicked smirk as soon as Alya redirected her attention away from him.

And then he winked.

The room went dead silent, not literally, but because the roaring of blood in her ears drowned out everything else and if it hadn’t been for that, she wouldn’t have been entirely sure her heart was still beating. By the time she gathered enough coherence to call after Alya, she was already long gone. 

Marinette scowled at him, completely unsure of what was happening and eerily reminded of the antics her partner most liked to pull, both of which were only succeeding in pissing her off, no matter how attractive said antics looked on Adrien. 

Either Adrien didn’t notice her glare, or more likely, he remained completely unaffected by it in his drug-addled state, plowing on in a matter-of-fact way,“Soooo, like I was saying, I know you’re shy, Marinette, but you just strike me as the dominant type, you definitely like being in control, right?”

“What?!” she yelped, smacking his shoulder before she even realized what she was doing.

Adrien jumped and let out a small yelp of his own, rubbing the shoulder she smacked and blinking at her in confusion. “What?”

“What did you say?” Marinette seethed, almost ready to attempt to strangle him, despite the idea of his skin under her fingers making her lightheaded. 

“I  _ said _ -” Adrien drawled carefully, leaning closer and enunciating in a very deliberate manner that made her feel as though maybe she were the high one- “You seem like someone who likes to be in control, like a leader, guiding other people.”

“...I don’t think you did.” 

He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you trying to gaslight me, Marinette?”

“Am I trying to- Adrien!” Marinette shrieked, sucking air in and out a little too quickly as she approached her breakdown threshold, growing dizzy and lightheaded. 

Adrien eyed her pensively, still a little too close for comfort as his shoulder brushed hers, and completely changed the subject. “Y’know Marinette, you look  _ just like  _ Ladybug, how crazy is that?”

She froze, spine ramrod straight as she forced out a strangled sort of hysterical giggle that made her thankful he was high as a kite and thus would not find it suspicious. “Oh, you think so? We have the same hairstyle, yeah, but I’m not sure I’d say I look just like her, I mean maybe a passing resemblance? It’s not like people mistake me for Ladybug on the street.”

He listened to her rant patiently, an air of serenity hovering around him that was only increasing her anxiety the longer she kept rambling on. Marinette fell silent and focused very deliberately on the notebook in front of her, making some pointless and nonsensical notes in an effort to divert his attention back to their project. 

Something tickled her ear and she reached up to brush it away, only to accidentally smack Adrien in the face because he was hovering well inside her personal space and breathing heavily. A fresh blush burst into life, spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. “Adrien!” Marinette squeaked, jerking away from him. “What are you doing?”

“You smell really good, Marinette,” Adrien purred-  _ purred-  _ a lazy smile curving his lips up to show off a canine that was just a little too sharp and sent rabid heat bubbling in her core. 

Her vision whited out briefly, just long enough to make her worry that she was dead, and worse, that what finally killed her was not some great showdown with Hawkmoth, but, in fact, Adrien Agreste’s honey coated voice and picture perfect smile.

Adrien remained blissfully unaware of her impending demise, his voice still prattling on in an even and cheerful tone. “Like roses and clean laundry and baked goods. Which makes sense since you live in a bakery with all the other snacks, but it’s a good smell, y’know?” He paused and tilted his head, studying her speculatively. “It’s how Ladybug smells too.”

Panic over  _ that _ shocked her back into reality and Marinette blurted the first thing that popped into her head, “How would you even know what she smells like?”

He leaned in and winked, whispering with all the conspiratorial airs of a six year old girl with a secret, “Legally, I can’t tell you that. But do you like cats, Marinette? You seem like you’d have good taste. Cats are objectively perfect creatures.”

“Uh, yeah, I like cats,” Marinette replied, not seeing the point in trying to avoid the question, mostly because she did like cats, and very begrudgingly, she might even say she loved one very specific cat, in a wholly platonic way, of course.

Well, when he wasn’t annoying her to pieces, much like the boy currently in front of her. 

“Meowvelous. I’ve been working on these jokes and I really want to run them by someone, do you mind?” he asked, clasping his hands together in an exaggerated beg. 

Adrien’s expression was so open and innocent that she wondered if he had actually said ‘meowvelous’ or if she was just expecting a terrible cat pun out of instinct and that’s what she heard. He seemed clearer but also at least two lightyears away from any semblance of productivity, so Marinette deemed this project session a lost cause and sighed. “Do your worst.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The grin nearly splitting his face with a blinding glee was more sincere excitement than mischief and for a brief shining moment, she thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But then he leaned back in his seat and made a show of checking his nails. “Hey Marinette, any idea how a cat maintains law & order?”

Marinette groaned pathetically, slumping onto the desk and lamenting her choices in life because of course,  _ of course _ , it’s cat puns only and she should’ve known that her luck has never stretched far enough to give her an easy time in Adrien’s presence. 

Adrien remained wholly unperturbed by her distress. “Claw Enforcement,” he delivered, almost straight faced, before plowing right into the next joke. “My kitten was having trouble watching Netflix...turns out he just had the movie on paws.”

Not even bothering to lift her head from where it rested on the desk, Marinette mouthed ‘on paws’ silently to herself and wondered if she was cursed to be surrounded by painfully attractive blonds that enjoyed making her life miserable via terrible cat jokes. 

“You like video games, right?” Adrien didn’t wait for her reply and she didn’t bother to give it. “Do you know why cats are so good at video games?”

She snorted. “No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.” 

He paused long enough for her to glance up and meet his eyes, and then winked. “Because they have  _ nine lives _ .”

The pen next to her whacked him in the face immediately and before she could even feel guilty for having thrown it, a wave of exhaustion crashed over her, all of her limbs suddenly weighing her down as though they were made of lead. She didn’t even have the energy to be shocked and appalled at cinnamon roll, model-of-innocence Adrien, and his apparently never ending stream of truly awful jokes and accidentally-on-purpose innuendos.

Adrien, for his part, seemed absolutely exuberant at her responses, some of his words running together in his haste. “There’s a big difference between a cat and a comma, you see, one has the paws before the claws and the other has the clause before the pause.” 

Marinette was beginning to think that maybe she was already dead and this was hell, just trapped in an infinite study session with her crush while he made her ears bleed with cat jokes that she’d already heard earlier this week while on patrol with her partner, and her breaking point was approximately one joke away.

“Where is one place that your cat can sit, but-”

Marinette lunged forward to smack a hand over his mouth. “Please, Adrien, I need you to stop.”

He pouted and his lips brushed her palm, causing her to squeak and scramble away from him. Adrien did not notice her embarrassment and continued to pout. “You didn’t even let me finish my joke.”

Sighing heavily, she fixed him with an apologetic but exasperated look. “I already  _ know  _ the end of your joke.”

“Are you  _ sure? _ ” he asked, stressing the question in a way that very briefly made her second guess herself.   


“Am I sure?” Marinette sputtered, “What, do you want me to tell you the joke and prove it to you?”

Adrien nodded emphatically and sat back with a dramatic flourish, “Yes, obviously. The floor is yours.”

She stared him down in silence for a long moment. “And you’re dead serious because of course you are. Fine.” Marinette had a sense of humor, she didn’t hate jokes, she didn’t even hate puns, but this guy was really trying to convince her otherwise. “The joke is, where is one place that your cat can sit, but you can’t? Your lap.” Her delivery was entirely monotone and she finished with a half-hearted ‘tada’ gesture.

His head tilted to the side, bright, gemstone eyes piercing through her in a stiff appraisal. Then Adrien’s face melted into an easygoing smile. “Well, I was going to say where is one place your cat can sit but  _ I  _ can’t, but the answer is still the same.” His tease was accompanied with a contagious laugh that threatened to tug a giggle from her own chest despite the fact that her heart was pounding and she’d broken into a sweat. 

“I knew you secretly paid attention to my jokes,” he cheered, that infuriatingly cheeky smirk curving his lips once more. “You don’t have to admit it, but I know deep inside you think I’m the cat’s meow!”

Her brain reacted as though she was a victim of hypnosis reacting to a trigger word and immediately launched her into a very specific sort of rant exclusive to a mood she liked to call ‘my partner is being an ass during serious business and legally, I have the right to kill him’. Which meant that Marinette very quickly found herself furiously spitting reprimands all while he grinned like a cat with a face covered in cream, and frankly, that made it even more difficult for her brain to reconcile that this was not actually Chat Noir. It was very much Adrien Agreste and her finger pressing into his nose was making his eyes cross in a way that had no right to be as cute as he made it look.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, her words swallowed by the blush overtaking her complexion yet  _ again, _ because her humiliation really was never ending. 

“I Knew It,” Adrien breathed, so quietly that she almost missed it, not that she knew what he meant anyway, but it dragged her fully into reality and she jerked away from him. 

Scanning the room again, she searched for someone she could potentially turn babysitting duty over to. She loved Adrien, that was half her problem, really, and she was not emotionally equipped to handle him for much longer. Her luck kicked in just in time and the bell rang, releasing them all for the day. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Marinette relaxed her shoulders. All she had to do was get him to his car and she’d be golden, able to abscond to her room and scream into a pillow for the next four hours. 

“C’mon Adrien, let’s get you to your car,” she suggested gently, gathering up his items for him and handing him his bag. 

His eyes, so wide they were nearly bulging from the sockets, stared her down with an inscrutable intensity. “Marinette. I know your secret.” Adrien’s abrupt transformation from his easy going, drugged state to  _ appearing _ eerily lucid only fueled her growing apprehension, but before she could hazard to question what he meant, he kept talking, “So I have to tell you mine.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, or perhaps a short one, time seemed to be moving weird whenever he looked at her so intensely. 

Or maybe that was the lightheadedness again. 

It was difficult to say what secret he thought he knew, or even if he actually knew something at all, and Marinette was hesitant to ask. On top of that, while she desperately wanted to know whatever secret he was planning on sharing, just to  _ know _ , it felt wrong to let him confess something in a drugged state and risk him regretting it later. 

So she did her best to be reassuring and redirect him. “Uuuum, no you don’t, it’s no big deal, don’t worry about it.” Marinette turned and took a few steps towards the door, expecting him to follow after her.

He didn’t, but she wasn’t exactly sure why that surprised her. 

“No, I have to,” Adrien insisted, having not moved an inch from where she left him. The look on his face wasn’t one she recognized, but at the same time it was almost familiar, and very obviously obstinate. 

“Well I guess, but can we hurry?” she gave in, moving back to where he stood to plead with him, “Your ride is probably waiting…”

His eyes scanned the classroom almost suspiciously and he lowered his voice, “I can’t tell you in such a state of indecent exposure.”

Marinette whipped her head around to confirm that the room was completely empty as she had already suspected and then shrieked. “What do you mean indecent-”

Adrien yanked her arm, cutting off her objections and dragging her behind him into the halls while she dug in her heels and tried not to hyperventilate at how firm but gentle his grip was. “In here!” he hollered, completely canceling any subtlety that might have survived their half sprint through the school, and shoved her ahead of him into a closet.

He darted in after her and slammed the door shut behind them, plunging them both into darkness. Of course, her heart rate immediately launched back into the stratosphere. 

Sucking in a few deep breaths, she prayed for her eyes to adjust more quickly because she could very nearly  _ feel  _ him only a few feet away and that wasn’t doing her any favours but maybe, if she could see anything at all, then she could move far enough away that she could rub two brain cells together and produce a coherent thought. 

“Adrien…” Marinette said, moving back slowly so as not to trip, “Isn’t this closet kind of...small?” Her back hit a wall and she breathed a small sigh of relief at having some idea of the layout at least. 

“Don’t you know that size doesn’t matter, Marinette?” Adrien quipped instantly, completely unperturbed both by the situation and the implications of it.

She suppressed a groan and kept her voice pleasant and coaxing, “Okay, well, can we turn on the lights?

“No, if we turn on the lights, then we won’t be able to navigate the tunnels.” He spoke with such a confident and matter-of-fact tone that she almost believed him out of instinct before her common sense kicked in and reminded her where they were. “Besides, I can see you purrfectly.”

She wondered why she was still taking him seriously at this point, his intermittent moments of hyper-lucidity aside, Adrien was completely zooted and utterly useless, as evidenced by the fact that he thought he could see. “Uh okay, well what did you want to tell me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he stated it so plainly, as if it were a fact, not a moment of hesitation or even a glimmer of dishonesty. 

It felt like her heart was caving in on itself, like a black hole had opened in her chest and was threatening to swallow her whole. Her mouth opened before she could stop it, “You who now? You what?” She coughed, grateful for the darkness at least concealing her humiliation from his eyes, but suddenly wondering if he’d actually said what she thought he said. “I’m sorry could you...start over? And be specific?”

Adrien pouted. Marinette couldn’t actually see him but she would have bet a significant sum on it as he whined. “Only for you, Mari. See, a number of years ago there was this beautiful actress and she met this guy. And the guy was kind of a dickwad -that’s not really relevant to the story, I just wanted you to know- but he convinced her to fall in love with him and they got married and-”

“Adrien.” She interrupted, “You’ve totally lost me.”

“You said start over, so I did.” 

Suddenly understanding too well and struggling to find her sense of humor about his literal interpretation to start with the circumstances leading to his birth, Marinette sighed. Her exasperation with his antics was growing once again. “I’ve changed my mind, be concise and to the point.” 

Silence hung thick and heady, her heart pounding in a rushed staccato she was certain he could hear, and though she couldn’t see those inquisitive green eyes boring into her, she could feel the weight of his gaze. It made her wonder if he really could see her after all

Adrien’s voice was soft, cracked and husky. “I’d like to kiss you without asking permission, but...” 

Butterflies exploded in her gut, the tingling flutter spiraling through her until she was lightheaded and dizzy, the roar in her ears so loud she almost couldn’t hear him continue.

“I won’t…” He murmured, and at some point one or both of them had moved together, his breath puffing across her lips, “if you don’t want me to.”

Marinette couldn’t think, her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth, leaden and unwieldy, and the magnetic pull flaring to life between them was crushing her in its grip, begging her to close the gap. The adrenaline coursing through her lit all her senses on fire; they weren’t even touching yet but she could  _ feel  _ him, inches away, every muscle coiled and tensed, just like her. 

His scent drifted around her, wild and familiar, like summer thunderstorms and late nights with the moon hanging above, something dangerous riding the wind. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. She gave in.

They crashed together with a force that shattered her to her core, one of his hands cupped her jaw, thumb tracing along the hollow of her neck, their lips colliding, gentle and hesitant at first. But the mounting tension spurred them both until her hands, without thought, fisted his shirt and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Marinette melted into him, every dip and curve fitting together seamlessly in the darkness, until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.

Adrien broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers as they panted, empty lungs gasping for oxygen. An eon passed before he ducked his head to nuzzle the crook of her neck and a soft laugh puffed across the sensitive skin, sending electricity dancing through her. 

Marinette could feel his lips move as much as hear him whisper, “It’s you and me against the world, Bugaboo.”

And then the door slammed open and they were left squinting into harsh light streaming in around a silhouette. She didn’t even have the brain cells left to pull away, much less process what Adrien had said as their vision adjusted to reveal Nino staring at them.

“Uuuum, hey guys,” Nino waved, poorly concealing his amusement at the scene in front of him. “Congrats on uh, this, but there’s like, an akuma out here so?”

Adrien shot back, stumbling into a shelf and raining cleaning supplies down on Marinette’s head. “Oh shit we gotta go!” he hollered, shoving past Nino and disappearing from her sight.

“Don’t say anything to Alya!” Marinette shrieked at Nino, hauling herself up to sprint after Adrien, quickly catching up with him thanks to his cough syrup induced coordination issues. 

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, mischief in his eyes even as he slowed his pace just enough to let her catch up and caught her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. And suddenly, she could see him. Suddenly, she understood perfectly why he’d been acting the way he had. She understood why his touch felt like coming home, like being wrapped in her childhood security blanket.

“C’mon Buginette, we’ve got a job to do!” 

A laugh bubbled from deep in her chest, spilling out in a torrent of hysterical joy at the possibilities spreading out before her, and she couldn’t even be mad at him for figuring it out. 

And to top it all off, she’d also probably catch whatever sniffles had him chugging Nyquil in the first place. 

**Author's Note:**

> I made an Avatar:TLA reference in this. It's not important but if someone notices it I'll scream.
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed these shenanigans :D


End file.
